


from grace

by sacrament (NekoAisu)



Series: disciple of rapture [2]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, Named Main Character (Shall We Date? Obey Me!), Original Character(s), Other, Paws and Claws Event, Pining, Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Spoilers, Specific Main Character (Shall We Date? Obey Me!), Winged Main Character (Shall We Date? Obey Me!), lucifer pines loudly and obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/sacrament
Summary: Lucifer waspositivethat humans were immune to Luke's mishap and its effects. So positive, in fact, that he is sure Judah's current form is something he can will away by blinking his eyes and rubbing his temples.He looks at them again.No such luck.
Relationships: Lucifer & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Main Character & Demon Brothers (Shall We Date? Obey Me!)
Series: disciple of rapture [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886752
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [points at the MC] free real estate for more ocs

Lucifer is beginning to think his migraines may need more than simple medication. Since Judah took ill the night before, he has had no end to worry. His evening was spent interrogating Simeon on that ridiculous syrup and its antidote, most of his sleeping hours eaten up by research and Satan’s posturing. Even with ears and a tail to tell him exactly how furious his brother was from all his poking around amongst the tomes in his room, they ended up squabbling over some passage and it’s inane instructions for over an hour. As if to make matters worse, Judah showed no improvement come morning. 

The day dawned dark and early (and by the  _ devil  _ did he want to stay in bed) with the painfully familiar sound of his alarm. A quick text told him they were still in bed but that they were sure they’d be down for breakfast sometime soon. The positive stickers they sent soothed his nerves. If they had enough energy to inject their usual optimism into the conversation, he doubts they’re faring too badly. 

The rest of his day seemed to only get worse, by comparison. 

Mammon tried to steal from Asmodeus. Asmodeus clogged the drain in his bathroom because of his newfound shedding. Beelzebub ate everything in the refrigerator  _ again  _ (and then mentioned how he had an appetite for their newest and most beloved addition, rather than more food). Satan was suspiciously civil over breakfast. Leviathan had blocked the entryway with Akuzon deliveries. Belphegor slept through the council meeting. 

Really, Lucifer should know better than to expect decent behavior from them by now. He  _ knows  _ they’re all irresponsible, but he still has some modicum of hope that  _ maybe  _ they’ll magically become decent and upstanding demons. 

His head throbs sharply and he pinches the bridge of his nose. There are reports to sort through, expenses to settle (mostly Mammon’s), and an entire stack of case studies he needs to complete for his capstone course. He doesn’t have  _ time  _ for a migraine. He pops a couple of painkillers and does his best to work through the right side of his head trying to commit mutiny. 

When Leviathan all but slams open the door to his study, out of breath and annoyingly herbivorous, he is well and truly out of patience. He can feel his magic roiling beneath his skin when he growls, “What is it?”

Leviathan fumbles for words, hands wrapped tightly around his D.D.D., before nearly yelling, “There’s something wrong with Judah!” 

He’s out of his seat in less than a second, ears and tail at attention. He does not bother reigning in the animalistic part of his ire when he asks, “And  _ what _ could that be?”

The human—Lilith’s descendant. How  _ unbelievable _ —had simply been down with a low fever and other run-of-the-mill cold symptoms. After some imported medication from the Human Realm, they had assured him that all they needed was some rest.  _ “It’s probably just a sore throat or something. I’ll take some meds and see how I feel in the morning.”  _ Considering Leviathan’s urgency, he doubts they’re faring as well as they had told him over text. 

“Just—just come with me!” 

Huffing, he allows him to lead the way. It’s a surprise when they take a right instead of a left. Judah’s room is up the stairs, not down the hall. Down the hall is the garden, one of the places the human should not be without supervision while ill. They seem to enjoy causing him unnecessary trouble. 

Leviathan opens the glass doors to the garden with shaky hands, speed walking toward the rose-covered pavilion Asmodeus loves, and proceeds to fidget with his jacket hem instead of continuing up the steps. Lucifer follows, though at a reasonable pace, and does not hesitate to approach the wrought iron table at the center. 

Judah looks at him and smiles. It’s strained, a little too shallow to reach their eyes, and fades when they take a shuddering breath. There’s a distinct difference in their smell (and Lucifer would like to say that he only notices because of his temporary accouterments. Some of the wolfish aspects have proven helpful) and it nearly makes him want to sneeze. 

They smell like a  _ bird.  _ It’s the same scent as Luke and Simeon, or any other wing-bearing angel. 

He asks, “Did we not agree that you would rest until there has been some improvement?”

They nod, eyes slipping closed. 

“Are you sleepy?”

“No,” they reply, tone sharp with pain. “Just a bit sore is all.”

Lucifer frowns, crossing his arms and peering down his nose at them. “Oh?”

They try for a smile again. It looks even worse than the first. “Back hurts a bit. Chest, too,” they say, sounding rather calm about the symptoms. “It isn’t anything to worry abou—hnn!” They get halfway through the next sentence before doubling over. They shiver, skin going pale and clammy, before making a tiny, terrified noise. The tremors grow progressively worse before they gasp, struggling for air when, in the space between one second and the next, nearly like they vanished and reappeared, they suddenly, impossibly have  _ wings.  _

Lucifer reaches out to check their pulse and finds it is steady as always, if slightly faint. He decides to get his eyes checked after returning to work. 

Judah does not have wings. They are human and therefore immune to Luke’s mixup and all of its animal-related effects. 

He closes his eyes, rubs at his temples, and opens them again. 

They’re still there. 

From tip to tip, the span could easily hit ten feet, if not more. They aren’t the right shape to fit in with the common angel, most of those in the Celestial Realm bearing more predatory profiles, but the fact of the matter is that they are very much winged. 

Like with all the other transformations, their clothing has somehow changed to match their newfound animal aspects. Where there had been a tee shirt and sweats—perfectly reasonable attire for a sick person—there is now a billowy, backless shirt and fitted trousers. They stir and their wings tremble, flexing and fluttering like a newborn angel’s would, and when they open their eyes to look at him, it feels like maybe he should have anticipated them devastating him unintentionally. 

Judah looks up at him from below their lashes, visibly drained, and whispers, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you feeling any different?” 

“I asked you a question first,” they remind, wincing when a wing flexes and pulls at muscles they’ve likely never used, “and would like an answer.”

He struggles for words past  _ “You look like Lilith”  _ because they sort of  _ do,  _ but they also  _ don’t.  _ Judah is a completely different person from Lilith in both mind and body, but the sight of them with nearly the same wings as his beloved sister is the visual equivalent to a kick in the teeth. They carry a ridiculous sort of purity for someone who gives themself away so easily, seals from their pacts with his brothers swirling down their spine as a set of interlocking spell circles, and he would give  _ anything  _ to ruin them. 

(And he could, the feral part of his mind supplies. He could open his jaw wide and bite down on their nape, use his claws to tear that ensemble off of them and mark that which is his, and ensure each and every person who lays covetous eyes on Judah will know that they are  _ his.)  _

He clears his throat, swallowing to ignore how he salivates at the thought. He sounds far more controlled than he feels when he says, “You seem to have fallen victim to the same predicament as the rest of us.”

“Oh,” they reply. “That’ll do it.”

Leviathan squawks (and here he had thought Judah was the bird out of the two) and whips out his phone. Lucifer’s D.D.D. chimes not even a second afterward, vibrating in his pocket with back to back messages.

Judah takes a deep breath, processing everything in slow motion. “What’s on my back? Feels reeeally heavy.” They stretch their arms forward and bite back a whine.

Lucifer can’t imagine they’re faring much better than he had after Falling. The physiological changes that come from growing new wings can be inconvenient at best and grievously painful at worst. Whereas he’d suffered through his form metamorphosing, it hadn’t been too far divorced from the angelic appearance he had held for millennia prior. The worst had been molting, but even that was tolerable in comparison to how much he grieved for Lilith. The agony in his chest had eclipsed the pain of Falling by a hundredfold. 

“Wings,” Leviathan murmurs, sounding nearly reverent. “Judah has  _ wings.” _

They groan, resting their head on the table. “I sure hope they aren’t as big as they feel. How am I gonna get through a door?”

“With some practice, I’m sure you’ll have little difficulty going about your daily routine. It will take adjustment, but as we have managed to reign in our instincts, you will be able to do the same,” Lucifer replies. “For now, you need to recuperate safely.” 

(What had Leviathan been thinking, helping them sit out here when they should have been in  _ bed?  _ Their room is the safest place for a human to be, whether healthy or ailing. They could have been harassed or injured by any of his carnivorous brothers sitting out here.)

Judah slowly draws themself into a proper sitting position before getting their feet under themself and standing. It goes about as well as expected (read: they fall on their ass near immediately). It takes Lucifer’s hands on their elbow and back before they can manage walking without tipping backward. 

He can feel muscles quiver and jump beneath his palm, straining to support the weight of their wings. They’ll be beyond sore for a few days, if not longer. The antidote for the syrup is still a ways away. Judah will have to adapt to being avian unless they intend to stay cooped up in their room for the foreseeable future.

The stairs present a unique challenge that is solved by Beelzebub’s intervention. He has no qualms about scooping Judah into his arms and carrying them up to their room to avoid their wings beating against the walls whenever they lose their balance. 

By the time they’re settled in bed, nearly the entire House of Lamentation has assembled to make trouble of themselves. Mammon and Satan watch Judah like house cats would a canary. Leviathan stands awkwardly by their bedside and snaps photos of their new form. Beelzebub and Belphegor make themselves comfortable at the foot of the bed while Asmodeus coos about how positively  _ delectable  _ his Judah has become. Lucifer can feel his migraine coming back with a vengeance. 

“You are to stay in bed to reduce strain on your back,” he instructs, crossing his arms and ignoring their attempts at argumentation. “I am  _ sure  _ my brothers will have no problem attending to you, seeing as how they all dropped their work to gawk.”

“I can manage—“

“Aww, why not just assign someone to care for them? I’d be happy to! It’s extra time to show Judah all of my cuteness,” Asmodeus says with a simper. 

Mammon’s face twists with disgust. He yells, “Hell no!” “Not a chance,” Satan spits. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. We’ll check on them. Beel and I can take night watch.”

“I’m not an invalid,” Judah argues. They hiss when Belphegor pokes at their scapulars. “That hurts, Belphie!”

“Case in point,” he replies. “Just let us care for you. It won’t be forever.”

They bury their face in their pillow and mumble, “Fine. I’ll get you back after this.”

“Out with all of you,” Lucifer orders. “There will be time to spend—“ worrying, pining, yearning —“bothering them later. Humans are fragile.”

“Hey!” They shout. “I’m not  _ fragile!” _

Belphegor fixes them with an indecipherable look. They shudder. 

“Okay, fine.  _ Fine.” _

“Thanks, Judah.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you sure this is what you want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got spicy 😳 Please check the updated tags y’all! While there is no explicit sexual content, there is some heavy flirting and implication between Judah and Lucifer.

Lucifer learns very quickly that Judah has no intention to allow him the pleasure of recovering from his migraine in peace. They had managed to drag themself to the shower and kitchen without assistance, he learns belatedly, and had disobeyed his orders without apology or restraint. Satan’s curious quizzing and Asmodeus’s well-intentioned but uncomfortable flirtation are easy to hear when he sweeps by on his way to leave. He peeks around the doorframe into the dining hall in an uncharacteristic show of nerves and lays witness to Asmodeus having a time of preening each and every feather with laser precision. 

“Lucifer _never_ lets me do this anymore,” he complains, frown matching the whine in his voice. “I used to help him with his wings back up in the Celestial Realm. He made such _lovely_ little sounds when I worked a kink out just right.”

Judah laughs, smiling at him with a knowing look Lucifer has never been privy to, and replies, “Your skills as a masseuse are unmatched, I take it?”

“I could show you!” He offers with a wink. 

They hiss when he does something with his hands that Lucifer can’t see. “A little gentler, please.” 

“As you wish!” 

Satan simply watches, chin resting on his palm, with a sizeable tome on transfiguration curses sitting closed on his lap. He seems more entertained by their exchange than he has with any number of books in his room and (to be completely, painfully honest), Lucifer can’t blame him. 

They haven’t seen anyone with wings like those since before the Fall. 

He sighs, stepping from the hallway into the hall with a sharp _click-tap_ from his oxfords. He clears his throat when Asmodeus continues to ignore him instead of looking up. “Were you not _instructed_ to remain at rest, Judah?” He asks, smile sharp to match his words. “Were _neither_ of you capable of _keeping_ them there?”

“I thought all of us “carnivores”—” Satan says, making air quotes with his hands —“were banned from, you know, being alone with Judah.”

They shake their head, muttering, “Wasn’t that only Beel? The whole eating me thing?”

What remnants of his headache that remained renew their efforts to make his life miserable. He crosses his arms, ordering, “Should you need something, send for someone. Satan, help Judah back to their room.” 

He stays long enough to ensure it will be done before taking off. He is already a few minutes behind schedule and will _not_ accept his tardiness without a fight. 

* * *

Someone should have warned him that Simeon would break into the House of Lamentation. They should have also warned him that Luke’s incessant chattering would be the only warning he gets before nearly getting bowled over by the chihuahua’s rushing about. 

“Sorry, Lucifer,” he calls, already halfway up the stairs. “We’re helping Judah with something!”

He assumes that if the angels were let in, their intentions must be _somewhere_ in the group chat. He takes his D.D.D. from his pocket and unlocks it, opening Messages and beginning to catch up with the backlog.

**_Simeon_ ** _said at 04:47 p.m._

I heard Judah fell victim to Luke’s mistake

I’ll be coming by in an hour to help 

He opens another thread.

**_Solomon_ ** _said at 04:23 p.m._

I heard from Asmo that Judah is under a spell. He said something about wings? 

Should I be concerned?

He fires off a response to Solomon before undertaking the monstrous task of backreading the fifty-plus messages his brothers had sent during his absence. 

**_Asmo♡_ ** _said at 03:10 p.m._

Hey~! 

Heeeeeey!!!

Isn’t anyone around when I have cute Judah pics to share? 

**_Satan_ ** _said at 03:13 p.m._

I hope this isn’t something lewd. 

**_Leviathan_ **: They better not be!!

**_Asmo♡_ ** _:_ How rude! I’m just helping to bring out all of their cuteness! 

I’ll have pity on you and your otaku aesthetics 

Here!

[ **_Asmo♡_ **uploaded an image] 

**_Mammon_ ** _said at 03:15 p.m._

Should I even open that

**_Leviathan_ ** _said at 03:18 p.m._

We all know you’re going to

Like Asmo could post a pic of Judah and not have you set is as your lockscreen lol

**_Mammon_ **: I would NOT

**_Belphegor_ **: Keep telling yourself that but not in the chat. 

Trying to sleep

**_Leviathan_ **: Just put your phone on dnd

**_Satan_ **: Dungeons and Dragons?

**_Leviathan_ **: No like

Do not disturb

You know that little moon icon Belphie? Press it

**_Satan_ **: That makes more sense. 

**_Belphegor_ **: Night

**_Asmo♡_ **: But it’s only threeeee

What about my Judah pics (￣(工)￣)

**_Leviathan_ **: Don’t use kaomojis to tell us to look at your nudes! (¬_¬)

**_Asmo♡_ **: But what if they’re Judah’s nudes

Would you let me use them then~?

**_Beelzebub_ **: Can we get lunch going? 

Lucifer sighs, skimming through the rest before scrolling back up and opening the photo. Past squabbling over ordering from Hell’s Kitchen or using what’s left in the fridge after Beelzebub’s usual ransacking, there was little discussion of the picture or Judah’s state of being. 

He expects some sort of selfie that is more Asmodeus than them, the camera focused on his brother’s painstakingly coiffed appearance instead of their resident human. 

He gets Judah sitting in front of a very distinctive rose-themed vanity without a demon in sight. They have clothes on, thankfully, and their hair is swept back from their face by one of Asmodeus’s makeup headbands. Their wings are still a bit damp from the shower and there’s a stripe of moisturizer cutting a line across their nose, mint green on alabaster. 

From the look at it, Asmodeus had given them all of a second to turn toward the camera before snapping the picture. They look mildly surprised, but are smiling nonetheless. 

It’s a good photo. 

Lucifer saves it to his gallery and pockets his D.D.D. before heading up the stairs the way Luke had gone. He knocks on Judah’s door before letting himself in, sneezing near immediately. 

Simeon laughs at his disgruntled expression and waves him over, handling Judah’s wings with surprising nonchalance. “Lucifer, what a pleasant surprise.” 

He examines their primaries with care, gently oiling and aligning them as human realm birds would when preening. He is far more clinical about it than Asmodeus had been. There are bottles and a small tin of wax set out on the bed where they sit. Lucifer recognizes many of them as Celestial realm products—though, even had he not used them more than a millenia ago, the gilding and annoyingly intricate labels would give them away as imports—intended to assist angels with regular upkeep of their wings. The smell of frankincense is nostalgic, if a bit overpowering inside of the human’s room. 

“My apologies for not responding to your message,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “I was in a meeting.”

“With Diavolo,” Judah says, rather than asks. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. Thank you.” 

Luke fidgets, standing by their desk and the half-unpacked bag on top of it. He startles when Lucifer turns to him and raises one carefully manicured brow. “W-what? We’re just here to help Judah! I wouldn’t be around you demons otherwise!”

“That’s rude,” Judah chastises. “They aren’t bad—“

“You have _pacts,”_ he argues, balling his hands into fists, “and humans who make pacts with demons will eventually be—“

Simeon sighs loudly. He caps the bottle of oil before sliding off the bed and adjusting his clothes. “I think that’s enough. I’ll leave the product here. Make sure to visit and bring them back once the curse is lifted.” He gestures to Luke to grab the bag. “Make sure to let me know if you need anything else,” he reminds, smiling pleasantly. 

“I wiiiiill,” they reply, singsong tone giving way to laughter. “Take care, you two! Thank you for your help!” 

The moment the door closes behind them, they let out a loud and undeniably exasperated sigh. Lucifer breathes a laugh. “You’re feeling better, I take it?”

“I was fine yesterday,” they quip, wrinkling their nose at him. 

He raises one manicured brow as if to ask, _“Oh, really?”_

“... Seriously. I promise that I’m alright, Lucifer. I’m still sore and moving hurts, but you forget that this ain’t _nothin’_ on my usual pains.”

“Mammon has been a bad influence on you, I see,” he says by way of deflection. Their illness and inconsistent health has always been a point of contention between them. He’s always found humans to be weak, easily breakable, and exceedingly _simple._ He hadn’t thought about restraint when he had lashed out at them, all those months ago, or if they would even _survive_ it. The sight of them collapsed is seared behind his eyelids. 

He is the Avatar of Pride and will suffer no unfavorable marks on his record. That includes allowing their favorite(?) human to ruin their tenuous grasp on decent health because of _stubbornness._

“I’m really okay, though. Come and see for yourself.” 

He takes a few steps into the room, awkwardly moving from their stoop to barely a foot from their bed, and asks as gently as he can manage, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Judah snickers, standing up on their knees before reaching towards him to grab him by the lapels and pull. He startles, from the manhandling (who could claim they had yanked on his clothing and lived) or their proximity (nearly chest to chest, the thin fabric of their halter top does nothing to aid him in denying temptation) he cannot say, and they look up at him with an incandescent smile. 

“You act like we’re about to sleep together. Was that your intention?”

His _intention?_ He was simply following the guidelines and recommendations put forth by Satan and Diavolo for the care and keeping of humans. They said he should be more delicate with them. His usual manner is too authoritarian (ha! _Hardly)_ and he should take care to be personable and less uncompromising. Easier said than done, but he can’t fail in what they had both called a _simple task._

“You should know better than to tease me,” he says, sharp tone softened by ill advised affection.

They just lean up a little farther, tug him down the barest fraction of an inch, and say, barely far enough away to not be speaking against his lips, “You seem to think I am not a man of my word.”

He warns, “I could put them to the test.”

“Feel free. I’ll be here all day and all night by your command.” They break out into a smile again when his cheeks flush a gentle pink. “Let me prove that I am as well as I claim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmu on social media if you’d like to yell about OM! ;3c I am an unfortunately enthusiastic person

**Author's Note:**

> i have never written for this fandom before. concrit would be greatly appreciated!!
> 
> hmu on twitter [@khirimochi](https://twitter.com/khirimochi)


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